the pass that hung around my neck. “I’m not blind. My eyes are wide open to everything he is. And besides, we’re not…” I stumbled. “We haven’t…” If my tongue would have cooperated, that would have helped.
“You haven’t slept with him?” Her eyes narrowed.
“No. Not that it’s any of your business.” I turned to face the band but felt the weight of her stare.
“Good.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “If it were anyone else, Zoe, I wouldn’t care. But I’ve watched Nixon go through women like a river for the better part of a decade. He doesn’t alter course. Doesn’t give concessions. And when he hits the self-destruct button, he takes out everyone in his path. Jonas and I just know when to head for the high ground.”
“He doesn’t scare me.” I shrugged, my stomach flipping at the fib.
“He should.” She tilted her head. “You really haven’t slept together?”
“No.”
“Huh.” Her expression shifted into confusion for a second. “That’s not like him.”
“I know.”
My cell phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a message from Ben. “I have to go.”
Quinn nodded, then touched my elbow as I turned to leave. “Zoe, I need you to know that I think you’d be incredibly good for him. I’m not trying to protect him by warning you off, I’m worried for you.”
“I know.” I forced a smile and headed for Nixon’s dressing room. Quinn was protective of Jonas and Nixon, everyone knew it, but in this instance, she really was looking out for me.
I waved to the roadies I recognized as I walked down the hallway. Thank God this was just a two-show stint, and I only had Nixon to worry about. I’d never been a tour manager. I couldn’t even imagine handling a whole tour the way Ethan did, but that was exactly what I’d be doing for whichever band I took on first. I’d come into Hush Note when they were already big enough to have Ethan on the road and Ben in the office. It would take me a few years to bring one act, let alone several, up to a level even close to that.
Ben broke away from Ethan when he saw me coming. “Did you get a chance to listen to Seven to One?”
“Bass player needs to be replaced.”
He grinned and nodded like a proud father. “He does. Which is why I’m guessing they’ll be looking for new management soon.”
“How soon?” A little bubble of excitement fought through my practical pessimism.
Ben lifted a shoulder. “I would guess it’s going to take the other members another few months to figure it out. Timing might be right.”
“You think?” My head swam with the possibilities. In a few more months, I’d be looking to sign my first band.
“I do, especially since the Berkshire brothers formally gave me the approval to promote you once this is over.”
“Really?”
“As of this morning. They’re really impressed at how well Winters is doing.”
“Well, that’s all him.” My heart jumped. It was really happening.
“And you. Seven to One would be lucky to have you, kid.”
It didn’t matter that I was twenty-six years old, I’d always be a kid to Ben.
“Are you talking about me again?” Nixon asked, coming up behind me.
“The world doesn’t always revolve around you, Winters,” Ben lectured but smiled. “You look good, though. Feeling good?”
“Absolutely,” Nixon answered, flashing that million-dollar smile. “Straight and narrow too. Shannon here is quite the disciplinarian. Keeps me solid.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Glad to hear it. She’s going to make a lucky band even luckier when she branches out on her own here in a few months, although I hate to lose her.” His smile dipped. “You sure I can’t talk you into another year? At least until the new interns are potty trained?”
I laughed. “I think you’ll do just fine.”
Nixon tensed beside me, and my stomach sank.
“Fine then. Think about what I said, though. They might be worth keeping your eye on,” he said to me, then clapped Nixon’s shoulder. “You really do look good.”
“Thanks,” Nixon answered as Ben left, heading the opposite direction.
“Nixon—”
“Not here,” he ground out, then plastered a smile to his face as a group of venue staff passed by. His hand splayed over the small of my back, ushering me down the hall. The touch was possessive but nothing out of the ordinary to onlookers.
The gaggle of women outside Nixon’s dressing room perked up as we turned the corner, but he ignored them all, passing by the security guard with a nod as he